


Biological Incompatibility

by Kantayra



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Sex, Crack, Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, F/M, Humor, Jelly Babies, Kink Negotiation, Mating Rituals, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:47:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23026510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra
Summary: Spoilers for the S12 finale...sort of.“See, well, that’s my point,” the Doctor said. “I always knew I wassupposedto respond to all the traps and the death threats and the evil monologues, but I never reallydid. Always wondered about that, actually. Makes sense, in hindsight.” She pointed to herself and shrugged sheepishly. “Totally different species!”Horrified realization dawned on the Master. “You mean,” he said in disbelief, “all these years…and I’ve been doing thewrongmating dance?!”
Relationships: The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 101
Kudos: 303





	Biological Incompatibility

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the shameless crack. Apparently _this_ is where my brain went after the revelations in Timeless Children. And after watching too many nature documentaries of birds doing stupid dances at each other. Spoilery only for the big reveal.

“Muwahahaha!” the Master cackled maniacally. “I have you in my trap now, Doctor!”

The Doctor sighed wearily. “Really? Again?” She listlessly prodded the force-field that held her, her only reaction a slight wince when it zapped her upon touch.

“There is no escape this time!” the Master menaced melodramatically, stalking back and forth and all around her like a caged animal with too much pent-up energy. “And soon my army of cyber-lemurs will have infiltrated every capital-city zoo on Earth, and the planet will be—”

The Doctor let out a groan of frustration and banged her head back against the force-field twice deliberately. “Look,” she began with brutal honesty, “could we maybe…do something different this time?”

The Master paused mid-tirade, looking perplexed, the poor dear. “Different? How do you mean?”

“I mean… Cyber- _lemurs_? Isn’t that a bit over-the-top, even for you?”

“Well, I… _Yes_!” the Master finally sputtered out. “It is completely over-the-top! It’s the most over-the-top thing I could think of! That’s the whole _point_! Why else would anyone ever pick cyber- _lemurs_?!”

The Doctor winced slightly at all those exclamation points. “And maybe dial back the evil-monologuing, just a tad?”

“But…” the Master’s face fell, “I do the best evil-monologuing?” He sounded so worried and unsure of himself at that last bit, that the Doctor couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“You do, you do!” she hastened to reassure him. “It’s just… Well, it’s not really _doing_ anything for me, if you catch my drift?”

The Master’s lower lip might have wobbled. “What do you mean _not doing anything for you_?” he demanded. “Do I need to evil-monologue better? I can evil-monologue better! I just assumed that I’d done enough of it by now that I’d convinced you of my evil-monologuing skills!”

Oh, this was going to be _awkward_. The Doctor coughed pointedly into her hand. “Yeah, here’s the thing: evil-monologuing skills?” Another cough. “Not-exactly-what-I’m-looking-for,” she rushed it out all in one word.

The Master froze, wide-eyed.

“Not to discourage you!” the Doctor hastened to amend. “Your evil-monologuing skills are the best I’ve ever heard, I promise! But I’m just not… _into_ the whole evil-monologuing thing?”

“B-But…I’ve been evil-monologuing at you for _ages_!” he insisted forlornly. “Evil-monologuing is what I’m _supposed to do_!”

“Yes,” the Doctor agreed, “and when we both thought I was a Time Lord, that made sense. You would trap me, and threaten to obliterate everything I love, and strut about with your most impressive evil-monologue, and then I was supposed to, well…”

The Master’s eyes narrowed. “And you haven’t _well_ ’d once yet, might I add,” he said bitterly, “despite some truly impressive displays over the millennia!”

“See, well, that’s my point,” the Doctor said. “I always knew I was _supposed_ to respond to all the traps and the death threats and the evil monologues, but I never really _did_. Always wondered about that, actually. Makes sense, in hindsight.” She pointed to herself and shrugged sheepishly. “Totally different species!”

Horrified realization dawned on the Master. “You mean,” he said in disbelief, “all these years…and I’ve been doing the _wrong_ mating dance?!”

The Doctor couldn’t help but wince; it really was rather humiliating. “Just a little?”

The Master slumped against the control console, the giant red kill button now long forgotten. “Th-Then you don’t…”

“Sorry?” the Doctor tried apologizing.

“…Want me?” The Master looked at her with big, pretty, tear-filled eyes, and he wasn’t even trying to hypnotize her or take over her mind for once.

The Doctor gulped. She never had been able to resist him when he looked at her like that. “No, no, no!” she assured him. “I want you loads, honestly. It’s just…well, the _denouement_ that needs work. Maybe less killing and monologuing and more… I don’t know…”

“You mean, it _doesn’t_ turn you on when I threaten to boil your companions alive in acid?” he asked in disbelief.

“Not really,” she admitted. “Rather the opposite, actually.”

“Oh.” He absentmindedly flicked an off-switch on the console. “Better turn _that_ off, then.”

The Doctor took a moment to boggle that he’d actually had a device set up somewhere to dip her companions in acid as some sort of _foreplay_. “I’m starting to think maybe Time-Lord courtship and whatever-I-am courtship aren’t really compatible,” she admitted.

He looked absolutely crestfallen. “I _knew_ this would happen! As soon as I learned the truth about you! I knew it would ruin everything!”

“It doesn’t have to ruin everything,” she insisted. “You’ve got some stuff right. Just a few of the more… _eccentric_ bits could do with some tweaking.”

“Like what?” the Master asked warily. He’d now slumped all the way down to the floor and was curled up in a little ball next to the console for his super-weapon, arms wrapped tightly around his knees.

“Well…” the Doctor considered, “to start with, I’d say no killing people.”

“ _What_?” the Master exclaimed. “But that’s absurd! How am I supposed to prove that my genes are superior _other_ than by killing everyone else around you?”

“Uh…” Oh fuck, this was going to be even harder than the Doctor had thought. She’d never really paid much attention to Time-Lord romance because it really, _really_ hadn’t been her kink, and now she found herself at somewhat of a loss. “Well, let’s see. Okay, here’s a thing I like about your, um, ‘superior genes’: you’re really good at survival. Stupidly good at survival, in fact. As in: I dump you into a black hole or alternate universe, and I don’t even have to wonder whether you’ll get out of it. I figure that might be something my species goes for, seeing as I’m, y’know, immortal and all.”

“Really?” The Master perked up slightly at that. “I guess I could see that… I _am_ superior at surviving, after all…”

“You absolutely are,” the Doctor agreed. “It’s kind of hot, I’m not going to lie.”

The Master’s chest might have puffed up just a bit, before deflating again. “But without killing everything you love, how am I supposed to even get your attention?”

“Er…” The Doctor’s mind scrambled. _Seriously?_ She was starting to understand what ‘alien mindset’ meant in a whole new way. “Well, you’ve been very persistent over the years,” she finally settled on. “Disguising yourself and popping out all over the place. I love a good disguise. Add in a little Latin word for ‘master’ here and there, to entice me a bit. It’s all good.”

“I can still sneak into your life wearing disguises, then?” he asked hopefully.

“Absolutely,” the Doctor agreed, “they’re very cute.”

“ _Cute_!” he exclaimed, outraged.

“I mean… Surprising! Spontaneous! Shows how clever you are, and all that.”

“Well,” the Master sniffled a little bit, considering, “ _maybe_ I could emphasize the disguise angle more and the destroying-Earth element a bit less…”

“There you go,” the Doctor said with relief. “Already I’m feeling more… _receptive_.”

“Are you?” the Master asked hopefully. “Should I start evil-monologuing again?”

“Could you try something else instead?” the Doctor suggested.

“Like what?”

The Doctor shrugged helplessly. “I don’t really know. It’s not like I’ve ever encountered my own species before, or even knew I _had_ a separate species.”

“But I’ve been told I have the best ‘muwahahaha!’ around,” the Master grumbled sullenly. “I’ve spent so much time perfecting it! I’ll have you know that plenty of other Time Lords have propositioned me after hearing my maniacal laughter, but I always told them, ‘No, that maniacal laugh is solely for the Doctor. _She’s_ my soulmate.’”

“I don’t really think that’s my species’ mating call, though,” the Doctor said apologetically.

“Well, then,” the Master huffed, “what is?”

The Doctor let out a huff of frustration and thought very hard. Then, tentatively, instinctively, she reached into her pocket, pulled out the bag she found therein, and offered up, “Jelly Baby?”

The Master blinked at her in disbelief. “You have _got_ to be kidding me!”

“I don’t think I am,” the Doctor said, in a bit of stunned disbelief herself.

The Master paused and considered her for a good, long moment. Then, he got up and lowered the force-field that surrounded her.

Her breath caught in her throat when he approached. He was still doing that stalking thing that he always did, with his hips all slinky and evil. Evil hips were okay, maybe even good. She could work with evil hips.

Slowly, he took the bag from her outstretched hand and then deliberately held it back out to her, dark eyes gazing deep into hers the whole time.

“Jelly Baby?” he offered in the same deep, rich rumble with which he done all of his absolute best evil-monologuing.

The Doctor’s underwear soaked through in immediate response, and she launched herself at him, flinging arms and legs around him, kissing him frantically, and clawing wildly at his clothes. _Yes, yes, yes!_ Her inner biology screamed at her, suddenly driven wild with the urge to mate.

There was just that _one_ niggling problem…

She pulled back from their passionate kiss and panted breathlessly against his lips.

“What now?” he demanded. “Why are you stopping?”

“This is just a suggestion, mind you,” she said tentatively, “but just maybe, next time you could, well…ditch the beard?”

The Master pulled back, looked down at her, and said adamantly, “ _Never_.”

Then he kissed her again and, yeah, the beard burned a bit, but it wasn’t exactly a _bad_ burn. And, really, what with everything else they’d been through together, the Doctor figured she could learn to live with it.

“Okay,” she conceded, “I _guess_ it’s okay.”

He growled and rolled her back onto his Console-O-Doom™, dragged down both their pants, and was inside her in less than a heartsbeat. Apparently, the pegs and holes of their species were compatible, at least. Small miracles.

And, yeah, maybe the way he couldn’t resist laughing maniacally (under his breath at least – he was trying!) was a bit odd, and he seemed to find it a bit weird the way she wouldn’t stop compulsively licking his neck (and then that whole embarrassing bit about all the tentacles, and she honestly didn’t know _where_ those had come from, but he took it in good stride), but that was the fun of alien sex, after all.

She finally came when he looked deep into her eyes and said, in all earnestness, “I want to bury myself in your brain and never come out,” which was definitely obsessive and a little disturbing, but it turned out that obsessive-and-disturbing was a cross-species thing they could share between them. Win-win!

She wrapped her legs tight around him, sunk deeper into him with all her tentacles, and encouraged him, “C’mon, let me hear it…”

“Muwahahaha!” he cackled maniacally and climaxed hard inside her.

And, yeah, okay, maybe she could learn to love his mating call, too.

**Author's Note:**

> In retrospect, it makes so much sense! The reason the Doctor has never responded to the Master's obviously resplendent plumage is that he's been _DOING IT WRONG_! Poor thing! *pets him*


End file.
